I Hand To You My Heart To Shred
by Just-LiveLaughLove
Summary: "You are currently in between, and your time is wasting". And there it is again, the sky around her falling, falling, until it plummets into darkness. Klaus walks upon a weary Elena Gilbert, not quite human, not quite vampire. Two choices way in the balance and she can only choose one. Klaus/Elena ... Klaus/Caroline


**I hand to you my heart to shred **

The sky is a darker shade of blue today. There are traces of faded indigoes and splattered remnants of reds staining the horizon.

Sometimes, if she strains herself enough to listen, there are voices to those browning spots of lifeline. There in the west wing, (two) people whisper her name, a short endearment in the fullest laced with a powerful promise to never leave her behind.

Voices, comforting as blankets that form a fortress…a safe house.

These silver voices begin to dull when the suns fingers trace further eastward- leaving the man (father) and woman (mother) to rot into oblivion - where a voice of youthful ambiguity singsongs into a maturing understanding that it is time to slap on the coat of leadership. A crown of independence.

Slowly, as the birds soar over the line of earth, the melody transitions into a hopeless cry of despair, scarring the horizon. Ripping open the tranquil blue to form bleeding shades of purple, black and grey.

So more souls, more spirits pursue the weary in-between-girl, in the setting light of the fiery orb of yellow. They bring with them harsh words, silken memories that fissure at the ends as death eats away the smiles Elena has come to miss so dearly.

_You did this_

The thickened air squeezes on her lungs, she clutches futilely at her chest- tries to rid the pain, to no avail. Tries to breathe, when really, she won't need to. Not anymore.

Her destiny unfurls with two certainties. She is to be buried or become the walking undead.

.

.

The darkness encloses her. It consumes her.  
She can feel the sharp bite of loneliness prickling her flesh long before the birds disappear and the earth spins still.

Then, a fire. Tall, and viciously murderous erupts deep inside her.  
Her chest heaves painfully, finally eliminating her confinement.  
She breathes in fear, breathes out hope.

[The girl falls into a fit of coughing as her legs become atremble].

The fire breaches the surface; it sizzles her flesh and singes her hair.  
Digging nails into the rotting meat at her arms, she begins to tear away. But the fire only returns with vengeance, it makes her scream. Makes her beg for mercy.

She calls upon the gift of death in the frantic moment.

And then, -

Klaus.

- "If it isn't Elena."

With heavy gasps and shuddering limbs, she looks down to see translucent skin, powdery blood oozing from broken flesh.  
The fire now hidden.

"What do you want?" she tries to channel all defiance back into her posture, her voice. But it's too late. He has seen her; deteriorating before his very eyes into the ever-changing soil. And only now does he come to her aid. Or to her funeral?

She is never too sure with Klaus.

He raises arms. In acquiesce, as though he should be frightened of the new dysfunctional teenager, bound to the earth with one golden string.  
"Just came to check on my favorite girl. See how her new set of fangs are treating her."-  
_Fangs. For tearing into sensitive flesh, ripping open wounds and letting the warmth of life flourish in her mouth. _The thought sends a static surge of power through her system.-"Unless…"

She blinks away the aroma, finds attentive eyes measuring her.

He gives a smile she has never quite seen on him, approbation? Surprise?  
Given his age, his demeanor, she knows well what effort is required to render him speechless.

He is intrigued by her moral dilemma. Just how willing is she to die virtuous of all sins associated with a creature of night?

"And why, do tell, have you waited this long? It is obvious, that you are weighing your options in both hands, but, dear Elena, do you wish to never use your hands again if you choose the alternative?"

"I never wanted… I don't know! This wasn't meant to happen". Her words wrestle. Fumble.

"Believe you me, I am in complete agreement. After all, you were the magical ingredient to the life of my hybrids". As an afterthought he adds, "A most unfortunate waste".

"Sorry to disappoint."

"No matter, love. I can see the rather confusing predicament you're in."  
"I don't have time for this, Klaus. I have..."  
"Three hours and twenty four minutes"  
she knew what it meant to be cold, though it seems his words prevail the meaning; sending blistering pieces of ice through her.

"how-"

"I can smell death on you"  
She cringes at his candid approach. Shy's away like it were a slap on the face.  
He looks to the setting sun, "at the moment you have one foot in the door and the other foot,"  
he eyes her wondrously "... well, right here". One foot in reality. The other doomed to a soulless existence.

"You are currently in between, and your time is wasting".

And there it is again, the sky around her falling, falling, until it plummets into darkness.

.

.

Moments pass, seconds flare by bringing her closer to an inevitable deadline.

"Do you not suppose that to be surrounded by those you cherish would be best?"He murmurs, shifting only slightly to address her.  
"I can't. I know if I am with them, they will make the decision for me and I... I just need to _think_"

"What is it about your humanity, Elena, that you hold onto it so damn stubbornly?"  
Dark eyes squint past almond lenses. "What do you mean?"  
"The only reason you are turning the option of death in your hands is for the sake of your _humanity_. Why?"

"My parents left me _human_, Klaus" she responds sharply, like that alone should answer the obvious.  
"If I am going to die, I want to still be me. And I've seen enough to know that vampires are prone to wreak havoc at least once in a lifetime… And, I don't want to be like you"

Pursing his lips into a dark smile. He nods in agreement.  
Then comes the question her and Caroline have argued over countless times.

"Where you… _good_? Before?"

He doesn't look at her, rather, through glass that holds the past behind it. Where dark eyes and sugary laughs and mild cherry lips live.  
"Yes."

"But I do not hold a candle to your morality, Elena. You certainly attain your own level of integrity. It's admirable." His eyes send her into an indecisive bow; admitting defeat by accepting his words as sincere. For, who can ever really distinguish the insidious agenda of the devil when he wears the smile of an angel?

.

.

The air catches in her throat like rust. She looks to Klaus questioningly as her body weighs down like a bag of sand. Body becoming boneless

Klaus only stands there and watches her hunch over, shoulders pulling forward, fingers clawing at her throat in a useless attempt to stand.

"Kla-",

it seems there's a combustion of acid beneath the brittle layer of skin.

He crosses his arms, blue eyes analyzing her body temporarily thwarting the process of desiccation. He can hear her heart struggle to force itself on.

In this moment, where all hope drains lifelessly from her eyes, he sees Rebekah, eyes crazed in frenzy as her farther forced her dead rebirth.

Blood slowly begins to turn to dust, courses through her veins in grainy clusters. Clogs and blocks and chokes her into desperation.  
_  
Are you ready for this?  
_  
She catches his eyes, reads his question, his request.  
_  
I can help you. I can make the pain stop. Just tell which way you wish it done._

"I never wanted this" she doesn't recognize her voice and a part of her can see his disappointment. If she is to die today, he would have preferred to be staring into fiery eyes that belonged to none another but a Petrova. Where is she? He wonders.

The girl who cursed his soul to '_rot in hell'_.

_In a life, much to faded to be this one, he watches a girl crumbling. Curling in on her tiny porcelain figure, tearing the air around her; like she were trapped in a coffin of trepidation._

Dark eyes reflect a fire that devours the clearing. It yearns for a taste far sweeter than debris and broken twigs.

A wild tangle of hair shields a torn face, conceals chapped lips that whisper words he never could quite hear when he were human, '

_I love you'__._

But then comes the noise he adopted as his only constant comrade.

_Silence._

Elena searches for an answer in the breeze of the forest. But all that stands is an uncanny stillness. An eerie quiet, where in the depth of its hidden face, questions roar to the surface; wrings her tight and pulls her down. Silence, she thinks, is louder than a burning forest].

"I, Klaus... I-"

Her knees collapse from beneath her. But strong sturdy hands catch her thin frame before it can quite find the floor.  
"Hush now, sweetheart" He whispers like a forbidden lover.

She convulses, and despite her pride she grips onto his long sleeve. She tries to force air into her lungs, though it seems she breathes in the residue of a monstrosity of a fire. It scathes at her airways. Brings tears to her eyes.

Klaus, non-too-gently, tips the weary in-between girls' head backward. Assists her in the attempt of breathing and with the calloused padding of his thumb he wipes away the tears that stain her face. He continues this motion until her nerve endings seize their spasms; holds her closer as her muscles fatigue and fall limp. Exhaustion overwhelms her.

When he finds her eyes again, he is not too sure _who_ he sees.  
The same face with different names. The same face with unique voices of deprived freedom.

_All irreplaceable. All irrevocably loveable._

"You were all born to die; it seems" had it not been for her experience in hallucinations, she would relate this to another trick of the mind. Twisting and turning memories into fatal nightmares that tear her apart.

Had it not been for the odor of death turning her bones to rust, she would not have missed the regret in his blue endless eyes.  
"Klaus,"  
He twirls one loose curl around his finger, "I'm here."

Her words on a precipice of crying, she manages; "Can you take me home?" releasing the strand he smoothes back matted hair from her eyes.

"Of course, dear heart"

He pullS her to him with a touch that one would acquaint with a delicate flower. Hooks an arm under the bend of her knees. Instinctively she drapes her arms upon his shoulders and lets her heavy head lull against his chest. Breathing in beat with the solid pumps of his heartbeat. And though it reassuring, it frightens her all the same. Because if Klaus is dangerously petrifying as a _dead_monster, what could he be as a man with a heart?

What could it mean for her blonder haired friend?

.

.

His eyes relinquish her of the nightmares that forge their names in a fire that disintegrates her stronghold.

A fire she has come to adopt as a friend.

"Klaus,"  
His chest hums, "Elena?"

Barely able to twitch her fingers, she takes a great surge of energy to crane her neck to peek at him through dark lashes. "Would you stay? I don't _want _you there" she quickly says, a refusal to succumb to his kindness, "Only so, when I tell them and they inevitably try to force me not to... y-you can stop them?"

His refusal to answer is her only response.

.

.

He watches Jeremy watch his sister as loved ones harass her.  
Throw her off balance with accusations like;

_How dare you give up like this?!_

All of this would have been for nothing!

_How selfish can you truly be? How many have died to avoid this!_

Cushioned with;

_Elena, please! Please- just think about it. Everyone needs you here._

There's still time to change your mind, it will be hard. But I'll help you. We all will. You won't be alone.

Even Stefan. The noble Stefan; her knight in shining armor pleads with her decision.

_Please, Elena. I love you._

Still the young boy has yet to say a word. Remains motionless. Just watches with a blank expression, a solid set of muscle frozen in a place between nowhere and nothing.

"Jer?"

The boy is awoken from his reverie.

"Lena," he smiles.

She sits by him on the stairs. Leans into the much appreciated support of the wall. A wall her father painted all those years ago. She fiddles with her fingers before sighing, "Are you mad?"

His eyebrows stitch together and for a moment he doesn't look at her.  
"I'm angry this happened to you" he answers carefully. "I _hate_ that this happened to you".  
For a second she sees a glimpse of the lost boy, finding refuge in drugs, seeking company in stoners. Sees the child, (face it, he is still just a boy), trying to make sense of death on the eve of Vickie's murder.

Why does everyone die on me?

Suddenly she's all too aware of the abandonment he suffers."If you need me to stay, Jer. I will stay"

"I will always want you to stay, 'Lena, but, this rests on what you want. What _you_ _need._"  
What she needs is the promise he will be taken care of.  
"Because, if I'm tired, you must be exhausted as hell."

The flow of blood pulses at the artery of his neck. Warm and slow. Deliciously tired.

_Easy, Elena_.

Her head snaps up and she finds Klaus sitting on the couch, eyes training themselves on her.  
_Deep breaths. Don't want to hurt dear brother now._If it wasn't for the severity of his gaze, she would assume him to be patronizing her.

"I can't be a vampire, Jeremy,"  
He nods, slowly. The muscles in his jaw twitching as a wall of tears coat his eyes. "I'm so sorry, Jer. For everything," she cries, "everything I put you through".

Remarkably the boy draws her to him, resting his chin on the top of her head. Stroking the length of her arm.

"Say hi to mum and dad for me"

Silence enshrouds the Gilbert children, well, what's left of them.  
They huddle together-taking up no space of the world, as if it's the rest of the universe that doesn't exist.  
_  
Elena drew closer to the fire. Fearlessly and defiantly. 'We can't leave Jeremy without a family'.  
_Suddenly Klaus is mourning the loss of their Aunt Jenna.

.

.

Caroline's eyes have yet to seize their accusations that pierce his flesh like the keen edge of a dagger.

The Salvatore's are saying their goodbye, Jeremy never straining too far from the aid of his sister. _  
_  
"This is your fault"

He looks up to see none other but miss mystic falls. Her words falling fluidly from her lips like an art form of dance. They roll together almost like they have been waiting on the line of battle.

"If I recall I was unavailable at the point where she was fed the blood of _Damon Salvatore _and drowned at the hands of _Stefan_" he retorts shortly. Glaring from heavy eyelids.

Folding arms in a restraint of rage she grits, "your _sister_actually."

Taking a swig from his scotch he breathes, jadedly, "let bygones be bygones, dear. We certainly don't have room for this game."

She bends down- leans in close. Her doll-hands find a place on the arms of the sofa as she leers at him. Green blue eyes never releasing his. He wonders for a moment if he should be frightened. As he sees the thought script itself in deep shade of red in her cheeks; his heart breaks. In the deep blue of her hostile eyes he sees nothing but _hatred_, "If you had just stayed out of our lives-"

-"Klaus"

they both turn to see Jeremy, they both hold their breath when he tells them Elena wishes his presence.

.

.

"I heard you two fighting" Elena croaks.

"Just a healthy exchange of blame, love. You needn't worry" he murmurs, standing by her window. Watching the moon grace itself full.

"All I got is worry," Elena chides. Wondering if his wolf like senses is taking its' toll.

Back still to her, he offers her something Damon once did years ago. "I can make Jeremy forget, Elena."

"No, I'm not doing that to him again. He deserves honesty"

"I am sorry for, for what… how it has ended"

her eyebrows pull together, and he realizes this is the first time she has actually looked at him. Tried to _read_him.

Focusing on her breathing she continues, "If you could fix it, reverse everything… would you?"  
He doesn't turn, but he lets her words fall in the space between them, delicately rubbing them between his fingers. Knowing what respite lingers in her question.

"No," he finally says. There it is; the devil she knows. And, despite the resonating putridity of his indecipherable stature, she despises him for all else but his honesty.

She thanks him for it instead.

.

.

"Don't break her heart"

he looks at her, eyes closed shut, thin arms holding the warmth of the blanket flush against her whitening skin. [Voice reverberating up a dry trachea].

"You've shredded enough for countless lifetimes."

"I think after tonight she would never want me,"

her eyes flit open, and he knows what fortitude that requires, "Caroline's heart is pure, Klaus. She is foolish sometimes, with how much she cares" he can read the thought. _Even for murderers like you_. But he does not dwell on it, not when his own mind wonders just how pure this heiress of the goodwill's soul truly is.

Than he looks at Caroline, a girl with no need to involve herself in the affairs of heartache and distrust and yet here she is. Taking hold of all who begin to tremble and build them back up again.

Elena is a product of destiny. Her future had nothing more sacramental than that of death, but Caroline sacrifices all happiness in the hopes to share it among those who need it.

Elena watches the hybrids eyes drink in the sight of the golden vampire and Elena can _see_ him appreciate her _light_, already knowing he thinks her _beautiful and strong._

[But what she will never know is the undying attraction he has for those who wears his _firsts_ face.  
But then again, he has fallen into the dark-deep soil eyes of a Petrova far too many times to rationalize; a girl with her own face, he thinks, who belongs to no one but herself, is what he needs.  
And he takes that as a challenge].

.

.  
It's ironic really, to see how delightful the weather is on the day of Elena's funeral.

Maybe, though, it's what they need as they all make words of peace.

They all remark her in beauty. And true they are.

Some say how she was a _fun girlfriend and an amazing friend_

Stefan can barely hold his head up as he explains how she was_kind and she was caring and how she was selfless and how she was real._

Jeremy smiles when he recounts the day she told him of her adoption, _though she may not be a Gilbert, she was just like them, crazy. _He's the only one that smiles at the picture. Like she were there, standing by his side.

Damon, heartbrokenly explains that even in death _he will always choose her._

Than comes Caroline, the girl with the golden light

and like the rest, tears coat her eyes as she speaks of Elena Gilbert _savior of the curse and the damned_.

Except, unlike the rest, when her words trail, her eyes find _his_ in the crowd. And she gives a wan smile when Klaus gives a reassuring nod.

The weather may not be ironic after all. Actually, Klaus seems to think it fits just right.

Maybe the sun is Elena's soul, casting rays of joy for a freedom she had never known.

Perhaps, the light, after all the darkness suffered, is the promise for _a_ _future_.  
That life will go on.

With Elena Gilbert watching all the while.


End file.
